


Couldn’t Sleep?

by ImSlowlyDyingFromMyOwnStupidity



Category: Transformers: Prime
Genre: Fluff, I wrote this in like an hour, M/M, Megatron has nightmares, Megatron recalls and old poem, Nightmares, Poems, Post-War, These two are low key the best, They're my children, Transformers Prime - Freeform, angst if you squint, help me—
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-05
Updated: 2020-04-05
Packaged: 2021-03-01 00:01:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,259
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23485708
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ImSlowlyDyingFromMyOwnStupidity/pseuds/ImSlowlyDyingFromMyOwnStupidity
Summary: Megaton has a nightmare.
Relationships: Megatron/Orion Pax, megatron/optimus
Comments: 10
Kudos: 54





	Couldn’t Sleep?

He was  _ crying _ . 

It had been a millennia since the last time Optimus—or Orion—had seen Megatron cry. 

Half choked sobs dragged out of the mech, his frame trembling as he covered his mouth. His optics were closed, one arm wrapped around his abdomen witch was constricting with every muffled whimper. Coolant tears streamed down his cheek plates, an anguished expression taking over his face. The mech sat on a little nook in their berth room that over looked the city of Iacon. Blankets and pillows were piled around the ex-warlord, a dim light hanging above him.

Optimus had woken up just a few moment ago from a particularly loud sob that had hacked through the air like a knife.

“Megatron?”

Red optics flashed open, the former gladiators whole body tensing in one swift movement. The larger mechs gaze settled on Optimus, the only indication to where the Prime was by his voice, and the vivid blue optics that seemed to  burn  through the air. “Optimus—“

“What happened?” The Prime cut him off, slowly sitting up as he rubbed his optics.

Megatron seemed to scoff, but there was sort of _misery_ to it. “Nothing.” He bit down on his servo to smother another sob, gaze flicking to the outside world and away from the Prime. “Go back to bed.”

Optimus frowned, optic ridges furrowing. “No.” He made a curt reply, which forced Megatron’s gaze back onto him. He was never usually  _ blunt _ like that. “What happened?” He slung his legs over the berth.

Megatron attempted to argue, but the Prime was already sauntering over to the silver mech. The ex-warlord grumbled profanities to Optimus under his breath—none of which he really meant. He rubbed at his cheeks and optics, gaze flicking back to the city of Iacon. He looked exhausted; for a moment, Optimus wondered if the mech had been getting any sleep at all for the past few nights. 

When Megatron didn’t give him an answer, Optimus spoke yet again. “What happened?” He urged for the third time, slowly sitting down next to his mate.

“Nothing.” Megatron grumbled, but he could practically feel the Primes disapproving gaze, which made him wince. “It was just a nightmare, little Prime.” He reassured, turning his head to look at the mech. Though, his words only seemed to seize Optimus’ interest even more.

“What... what about?” 

It was funny how the younger mech cared so much about the tyrant; even after all this time. 

Though, there was only silence that filled the room. Optimus was unsure if he should speak. Megatron didn’t want to speak.

Unfortunately for the former gladiator, the Prime was _relentless_.

“What happened?”

Megatron met Optimus’ gaze, dermas formed into a deep frown. Then he shook his helm. “It’s doesn’t matter. It doesn’t concern you. You were not there. I’m not there.” He reached for his mates servo, entangling their digits together.

“I think it’s much of my concern if it is distressing my mate.” Optimus drawled, a helpless, pleading look on his face plates.

If was also funny how Megatron could never hope to find a way to resist the other, still after so much time.

The ex-warlord sighed heavily, pulling his knees closer to his chassis. He stared at there entangled servos. “The mines.” He muttered under his breath, a flick of malice and  _ terror  _ on his face for a mere second. “I was back in the mines.”

Optimus gave a sorrowful look, leaning against his mate. He traced a couple of seams on the mechs arms, and gave a small impatient tap to continue that Megatron knew all to well.

So, he did, no matter how much he truly didn’t want to talk about it.

“It was nothing more than a replay of a memory that my mind decided it wanted to torment me with, my little Prime.” He hummed slowly, his voice slow and melodic. How did this Iaconian not have so much influence on his mood? He had been crying mercilessly a few moments ago. Yes, he was still in mental anguish now, but he was calm with the Prime by his side. 

Another tap.

“Of my sire dying.” He answered the silent question, closing his optics and leaning back against the wall. 

There was a pause, but Optimus’ servo was still against the cool armor of his mate. 

“I’m sorry.” 

Megatron opened his optics, gaze flicking to the Prime’s bowed helm that was pressed against his shoulder. “Do not be, little Prime.” He wriggled his servo free was the grip it was in. He wrapped his arms around his mate, pulling him to his chassis. He savored the warmth radiating from the mech; Optimus did the same, closing his optics. “You have nothing to be sorry about—I should be thanking you.” The ex-warlord chided playfully as he nuzzled the top of the Prime’s helm. He could feel Optimus smile against the armor on his chassis.

The younger mech wrapped his arms around Megatrons abdomen, adoring the way the mesh flexed and tensed under his servos before relaxing as the ex-warlord excepted the embrace. 

Then Megatron laughed lightly, a small smile dancing on his dermas. “What would I do without you, my love?” He murmured, a playful growl accompanying the words. “I do not truly know how I went without you in the beginnings of my life.” 

Optimus chuckled softly, running the tips over his digits down Megatron’s spinal strut. “ _You can only miss things you have learned to know._ ”  The Prime quoted.

Megaton paused, looking down at the mech. That had been a line from a poem Megaton had written for Optimus—well, Orion—ages ago. “You... kept that memory file?”

“Why wouldn’t I have? It was one of my favorites.” The Prime murmured, tilting his head to look up at his mates glowing red optics, only to see a dopey red smile on his face.

“We have very different tastes, you know.” He grumbled, “I  _ hated  _ that one.” He shook his head, but a smile was still glued onto his dermas. “I thought it was to cheesy.” 

Optimus laughed, curling closer to Megatron. “Not  _ to  _ cheesy,” he smirked, “just cheesy enough.” 

Megatron snorted at his lover, kissing him on the forehelm. “You’re an idiot.”

“So are you, dingus.” Came the snarky reply. 

“Whatever. You’re to competitive.” Optics rolling now.

“Says the one who’s competing!” A scoff.

They both laughed, and Megatron squeezed Optimus’ waist. There was a comfortable silence for a moment, before the ex-warlord broke it.

“ _ And if that is true, than I guess I have learned to know you. More than I have attempted to learn anyone else.”  _ Megatron whispered, “ _I know learning you might cause me pain, but it was worth it; and will be worth it forever._ ”  He spilled out as he recalled the words he once had read to a little archivist.  “ _And if missing is learning, and learning is worth, then worth must be love.”_ His voice dropped down, optics fluttering closed. “ _ I love you; and when you are not by my side, I miss you, Orion.”  _ The only name felt like a foreign word on his tongue, but it was so sweet to say. 

“I love you too.” The Prime replied, a lazy smile on his face as he listened to his mate. “I love you so much...”

They stayed like that for the rest of the night; wrapped up in each other arms, staring out upon the vast city of Iacon. And for once in a long time, Megatron’s nightmares _vanished_. 


End file.
